


Always Golden

by anzewithaz



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Eerie, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, M/M, Prompt Fic, everything is not what it seems, no beta we die like men, unanswered questions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 23:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29616777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anzewithaz/pseuds/anzewithaz
Summary: What does it mean when you look into the eyes of the other half of your soul, and you're the only one who doesn't know the person staring back at you?
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17





	Always Golden

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alittlemayhem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittlemayhem/gifts).



Osamu thinks maybe he shouldn’t have suggested a walk this late in the evening, no matter how badly being stuck in the house with Atsumu was driving him insane, even if the path is as familiar to him as the back of his hand. The sun is rapidly sinking, leaching all of the heat from the already overcast sky. The dark clouds on the horizon threaten more snow and the freezing breeze assaults any uncovered bit of skin. He looks around the area beside the path that they had stepped off on, Suna’s insistence that he wanted to look around for a minute. Somehow the surrounding winter bare trees seem more oppressive than usual even without blocking out any of the fading dusk light. 

He walks around the graveled area, more and more anxious at his boyfriend’s absence and colder every minute with the retreating light. The snow muffles Osamu’s steps when he leaves the gravel to walk through the covered grass. Stepping through drifts, the snow spills over the cuffs of his shoes and clings to his socks. He hates having wet socks. Fine, if Sunarin wants to hide from him, two can play at that game. He takes a few steps toward the bridge on the other side of the creek; it would offer the best vantage point. He lets his mind wander as he wades through the piles of snow, trying to decide what exactly Suna is planning. He’s not paying half the attention that he should be this close to the water. He feels a jolt under his foot as the snow under his foot falls away and he lurches to the side. 

A strong hand wraps around his bicep, pulling him back to solid ground and against a shirt that looks familiar. A lilting laugh, a bit off from what he’s used to meets his ears.

“A little close there, babe,” Suna chuckles, an underlying unfamiliar tone. 

Osamu turns to meet a pair of over-wide, golden eyes and a warm smile that usually puts him at ease. Suna pulls him into a tight hug. For the first time in his life, Osamu wishes he hadn’t. 

“Don’t scare me like that!” Suna pouts.

“Me scare ya?” Osamu snaps, “yer the one who wandered off. And wha’s wrong with yer mouth?” Reaching to wipe a smear of red off Suna’s lip.

“I’ve been right behind you this whole time, I probably bit my lip, I’m fine,” Suna steps back to wipe away the swath of color and beams, a little too bright and a little too perfect if Osamu knows anything about it. Which he does. He’s had Suna’s face memorized in every light and every expression since high school. 

Osamu’s grey eyes narrow in the fading light, searching for what feels so off about a face he knows almost as well as his own. Suna’s wide pupils lock onto him and he suddenly feels like he actually did fall straight into the creek. Icy tendrils snake over him, spreading burning numbness in their wake, choking the air from his lungs, and tightening the knot in his throat that he hadn’t noticed has been growing since his boyfriend reappeared. Maybe he’s being crazy. Maybe he’s just overtired. 

“C’mon, let’s go, it’s freezing out here!” Suna’s arm snakes around his, pulling him from his spinning thoughts. Suna leads him forward on solid ground, walking almost silently as Osamu listens to the soft crunch of ice and snow under his own feet. There shouldn’t be anything wrong with this picture, he should be as happy and content as he was when he started this winter walk with the love of his life. But even if he doesn’t want to admit it to himself, he’s known what’s wrong since he felt that hand on his arm, pulling him from one icy depth to another. 

This isn’t Suna at all.

He’s so caught up in his own imagination that he runs right into stranger Suna who’s standing by the path, arm linking more tightly in his own. 

“Well then,” Suna smiles a huge smile that makes Osamu’s stomach turn, “are we going or what?” 

It takes a moment for him to realize that the person looking back at him is waiting for him to take the lead. He’s acting like he doesn’t know where they’re going. And well, maybe this imposter doesn’t. “Of course Sunarin,” Osamu bites back a wave of nausea at the name, “let’s go back to the house.” 

///

Osamu’s starting to think maybe he’s the one who’s gone insane. Everyone at the house seems to think so at least. His mom, Atsumu, hell, even Sakusa had asked if he’s okay, insisted that there’s something wrong with him or that he needs to loosen up and calm down. He’s not sure that he is okay. Because no one is asking Suna a damn thing. 

“Ya feelin okay?” Atsumu’s voice breaks, again, through his spinning thoughts.

“Just pretty sure ‘m insane.”

“I could’a told ya that.”

He smacks Atsumu away from him with a scowl, locking eyes with not Suna across the room. The smile that greets him is undoubtedly sharper than it should be. He’s not wrong, he reminds himself, and he’s not crazy either. His returned subdued smile is less enthusiastic, like he’s avoiding being sliced open on sharp canines. From the corner of his eye he can see Sakusa’s eyes narrow, not missing the tension bleeding out of Osamu and flooding the rest of the room. 

“There’s something wrong with you,” Sakusa observes. 

“ ‘s not me tha’s wrong,” he snaps back. 

“You sure about that?” 

“Yer not new around us, does Sunarin seem right to ya?” Osamu knows how this sounds.

“Uh, he seems more awake than usual if that’s what you mean. But no, he always looks like he’s up to something,” Sakusa seems confused.

Osamu can’t do anything but nod along with Sakusa’s assessment. He’s not wrong per say but there’s more than just his alertness. The shine in his eyes doesn’t sublimate and glow like molten gold like usual. Instead, any light that hits those irises throws sharp refractions. The way his nose keeps twitching in response to the movement in the room is odd. The sharpness of his smile is simply unnerving and discomforting in a way it’s never been before. The most unsettling part; however, is the fluidity, near bonelessness, of his movements. Osamu shakes his head with his observations, he knows he isn’t wrong. 

Dinner is a louder than usual affair, not Suna is far more open with his comments and conversation than usual, easy laughs fall from his over-sharp grin. For the first time in a long time, Osamu doesn't touch a single thing on his plate. 

He’s mindlessly cleaning the kitchen when the icy embrace wraps around him again, leaving a trail of slimy wrongness in its wake. 

“You almost done, babe?” 

A shudder rolls through Osamu, “uh yeah, yeah I’ll be done in a few.” The presence doesn’t disappear from his shoulders. “This look clean to ya?” he asks, holding up a serving spoon that reflects the light of the room. The oppressive presence is gone in a flash and he turns to find not Suna across the room from him, leaning against the doorway with his lip twitching. 

“I’m gonna go talk to Tsumu,” the kitchen light flashing across golden irises, none of the warmth diffusing at all.

Osamu just shrugs and turns to finish his task, entirely certain that the flash of an oddly shaped shadow is entirely his imagination. 

He is about to finish putting away the dishes, almost ready to concede that maybe he’s been too critical, that maybe the rest of them are right when the clatter of their mom letting the family dog in for the night turns all hell loose. 

He’s quickly spun around, not Suna between him and the sink, held firmly between the other man and the arguably small dog growling menacingly. 

“Rin? Wha’d ya do to the dog?”

“Nothing. I didn’t do anything to it.”

“Rin, the two of ya were snugglin on the couch this mornin. Wha changed since th-?” He can’t finish that question. Because he knows, and now he’s not the only one. Sure it’s just a dog, but at this point he’ll take any allies he can get. “Get away from me.”

“Osamu?” The person behind him seems confused.

“Don’t. Don’t fuckin talk ta me.”

“What the hell ‘Samu?!” Atsumu all but yells from the doorway, Sakusa and their mother standing behind him.

“How many times do I have to tell ya?!” He grabs for the person behind him, catching him by the wrist, dragging him in front, arm twisted behind him. “Tha’s not Sunarin!” He may or may not be a bit desperate at this point.

“Osamu,” Sauksa’s stepping toward him with his hands up, “let go of Rintarou please.”

“ ’m not hurtin him.”

“What are you doing? ‘Samu, please,” the person in his hold seems to realize how serious he is.

“I told ya not ta talk to me,” he applies a little more upward pressure on not Suna’s arm. “Tell ‘em.”

“Tell them what?” 

“Ya know what, yer not Sunarin.” 

“Osamu,” Atsumu moves to take a step forward, stopped by the dog standing in his path.

He shakes his head, applying more pressure that pulls what sounds like a growl from the imposter’s throat, “tell ‘em.”

Atsumu opens his mouth to argue with his twin, to tell him that he’s actually lost it when a barked laugh echoes around the kitchen. 

“Yer not as dumb as ya look,” not Suna practically spits over his shoulder at Osamu. Vindication flashes over Osamu’s face before he realizes what that means. 

“Where’s Sunarin?”

The imposter just shrugs, a sharp, insincere smile painted across its face. 

“I’ll fuckin kill ya. Where is he?” 

“You wouldn’t want to do that,” the imposter looks bored, laying his head back on Osamu’s shoulder.

“Why’d’ya think that?” Osamu looks like he’s trying not to vomit at the contact.

The grin and the answer he gets is the equivalent of crashing face first into that icy water, “because this is the closest to his face that you’re ever gonna see again.”

He’s not quite sure what happens after those words leave the imposter’s mouth, but he’s very sure that the barked laugh, that he somehow hears over the sound of rushing water in his ears, will haunt him for the rest of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to May for the prompt on Twitter and for being the deciding factor between happy ending and angst! 
> 
> Questions, comments, concerns, directions to the nearest exit?  
> I'd love to hear it! 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


End file.
